Chapter 290: Chapter 287: Welcome to the Core Area

BAM! The manhole cover flew open and the Dwarf, Singrev, scrambled out first. He threw down a rope from his backpack. Little Coal Ball was the first to climb up. The Minstrel, Freddy, grabbed the rope and was hauled up with Singrev pulling from above and Rorschach giving him a push with his [Mage’s Hand] from below. Finally, Rorschach rose elegantly into the air, slowly ascending from the manhole.

"Hey, get out of the way!" A horse-drawn carriage came charging toward them. Fortunately, the driver was highly skilled; he yanked the reins and swerved, narrowly avoiding Rorschach’s party as they suddenly emerged from the ground.

They had emerged onto a stone-paved street in a city district. The dim, yellow glow of kerosene lamps cast down, illuminating the road and the houses on either side. It looked no different from one of the older districts in Storm City.

Pedestrians were sparse, appearing and disappearing in the mingling night and dense fog.

"Are we back in Storm City? We’re not going to become Wanderers, are we?" the Dwarf asked. After scanning his surroundings, he looked like he wanted to dive back into the manhole.

"No," Freddy said, pointing. "If we were in Storm City, would we be seeing *this*?" The others followed his gaze.

"Eek—!" Little Coal Ball started to shriek, but Freddy quickly covered its mouth. Rorschach and the Dwarf immediately fell into combat stances. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

At the intersection, they saw a heavily decomposed corpse. It was impaled on a sharpened wooden stake, its arms spread and fixed in place as if to point the way. The "signpost" was especially horrifying under the lamplight. What little skin remained was peeling away from the skull, dangling precariously, while maggots crawled in and out, drawing the interest of nearby bats.

Rorschach slowly approached. A wooden plaque hung from the corpse’s neck, with words written on it in red:

"Shadow City Core Area.

"← Silver Street

"→ Harold Avenue, Inverted Church"

Beneath the directions, smaller text noted that the deceased was named Astier. He had been a thief, sentenced to hanging for stealing from a Marquis.

"’This Marquis certainly has a different style than Elgin,’ Singrev remarked, standing on tiptoe to read the fine print."

"Shh! You want to end up as a signpost ornament?" the Minstrel hissed, telling the Dwarf to keep quiet.

Even though they were underground, a wind suddenly began to WHOOSH, driving the fog into their faces. The tiny, ice-cold water droplets were chilling enough to make their hair stand on end.

"What’s this...?" The whistling sound was partly caused by a notice stuck to the signpost. It was so stained with some sort of decomposing fluid that it had turned nearly the same color as the wood. It read: "Do you want to know the truth? All are welcome at the Inverted Church. Seek the Black Cultivator."

Rorschach, curious about this "Inverted Church," followed the sign and headed right. The Church was also marked on the map the Count had given him, located at what seemed to be the end of the avenue.

The dense fog made it easy to forget they were underground, though they would occasionally get close enough to see stalactites hanging from above. The so-called avenue was quite wide. Many clothed mannequins were positioned along the roadside, with piles of various items at their feet. It didn’t look like trash—many items were still in their original packaging.

"This place would be a paradise for a Mouse Speaker!" Freddy guessed. He figured any scavenger would be in heaven to find so many goods just piled up on the side of the road.

"More mannequins than people..." Singrev seemed a little frightened by the atmosphere, gripping his hammer tightly.

Freddy grinned. "And what makes you so sure the ’people’ are even alive?"

’After coming to this Otherworld, Rorschach had grown immune to all manner of ghosts and monsters. In a world with Magic, it was perfectly normal for spirits and ghouls to exist, wasn’t it? If some oblivious creature were to leap out at him, well, Rorschach would just have to reluctantly blast it in the face with his Divine Exorcism Technique.’

Being unafraid was one thing; being cautious was another. He layered his Arcane Vision over his Dark Vision to scan the area but found nothing out of the ordinary. However, he felt a ringing in his ears, as if he could hear a faint, indistinct clamor like a busy market. Yet, besides the four of them, there was no one there.

"Are your ears ringing?" Rorschach asked his companions, but they only shook their heads. The bat, on the other hand, let out a piercing shriek. The Mage felt the sound in his head growing louder, making him dizzy. His brain felt as though it had been plunged into ice water, becoming sluggish and cold. Fighting back a wave of nausea, he asked Little Coal Ball, "What is the bat... what is the flying rat saying?"

"Nothing. It just shrieked," Little Coal Ball replied, unable to glean any information from the sound.

The sound swelled, becoming a cacophony of hawking and arguing, mixed with the distinct CREAK-CREAK-CREAK of mannequins.

The others finally noticed something was wrong. The mannequins were moving. Their joints were stiff, and based on their attire, they seemed to be trying to imitate living people. They even saw male and female mannequins walking side-by-side, pushing the kind of baby carriage that was a common sight in Storm City.

"What is this damn charade? To hell with it all," Rorschach cursed, angered by the dizziness. Fortunately, it didn’t affect his Casting. He tapped his Magic Staff on the stone pavement, and an Exile Spell expanded outward from him as the epicenter.

The spell, which should have been invisible, suddenly seemed to take on a physical form, pushing back even the fog. All the mannequins froze in place. Those that had been mid-movement lost their balance and crashed to the ground with a CLATTER.

From the fog ahead, however, new mannequins emerged—some in dark blue police uniforms, others in red coats and bearskin hats. Now the whole set was here: the "raw lobsters" and the "cooked lobsters."

They raised their guns. These weren’t melee weapons, but the standard-issue Firearms that Istani had begun deploying more than a decade ago.

BANG! BANG!

With the first volley, it was clear the weapons hadn’t been properly maintained. Of the four guns held by the front row of "raw lobsters," three exploded in their users’ hands. The fourth was wildly inaccurate, the shot obliterating a mannequin standing next to Rorschach’s party.

"Master Mage, what are you doing?!" the Minstrel cried, breaking out in a cold sweat. He had already tucked the trembling Little Coal Ball behind him and was now crouching behind the Dwarf, keeping as much of his body out of the line of fire as he could.

"Quiet!" Rorschach snapped. His tinnitus had faded. With one hand, he had cast a Slowdown Skill, erecting an invisible deceleration zone in front of himself and Singrev; the Minstrel just couldn’t see it.

The "raw lobsters," having crippled most of their own number, retreated. The "cooked lobsters" rotated to the front, raising their guns to take aim.

Rorschach didn’t give them a chance to shoot. His second spell was already prepared—a Ray shot forward with a WHOOSH. Everything in its path, mannequin and fog alike, Decomposed into fragments and scattered on the wind.

The Ray seemed to stretch on for an eternity, reaching the very end of the road. In the corridor it carved through the fog, a magnificent building was revealed. Everyone could see that the Inverted Church was, true to its name, literally upside down on the ground, balanced only on the tip of its spire!

"Keep moving forward." Rorschach’s head had cleared, and he confirmed that there were no more active mannequins. He also noted that his Magic Staff’s energy reserves were temporarily depleted. "Be careful," he warned. "I won’t be able to use rapid Casting like that for a bit."

A few mannequins had escaped the spell’s path. They were undamaged but now stood motionless, their guns lying on the ground beside their still forms.

"Damn it all, where did they even get guns and gunpowder?" Singrev put his skills as an Innovative Warrior to use, picking out two Firearms that were still in good condition. He kept one and tossed the other to Freddy.

The Minstrel still had a vivid image of the "raw lobsters" with their faces blackened by exploding guns. "It’s not going to blow up in my face, is it?"

"I’ve checked it," the Dwarf said, his tone serious. This was no time for jokes. "Ror... Heisenberg, you want one?"

"No, thanks. Magic is more my style." Rorschach gripped his Magic Staff, using the moment to absorb Magic Power. He used some to restore his own energy and the rest to recharge the staff and realign its internal Mithril conduits.

As the four continued toward the Church, the dense fog slowly closed in behind them. A mannequin dressed in formal attire and a woolen wig slowly produced a quill and a writing board, then began to write on a piece of paper:

"Rorschach: Destruction of public property.

Singrev and Freddy: Theft of firearms!"